Who's Molly?
by Lockiagirl
Summary: When a man enters the lab and orders Molly to come with him, Sherlock discovers that Molly has secrets. Secrets buried so deep that even Molly didn't remember them. Or does she? I changed the rating to T because of violence mentioned in chapter 7
1. Coming?

WHO'S MOLLY?

_AN: Not beta-ed. Sorry in advance for any mistakes. English is my second language. Still, I do hope you will enjoy the story and maybe leave a (constructive) review.  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just having fun with them._

Chapter 1 Coming?

The door swung open and a voice like a lash sounded through the quit room.

"Molly Hooper, you must come with me immediately".

It definitively sounded like an order.

Molly startled and looked up from her work. She just finished scrubbing the exam table and was about to stand up again. She always leaned over to do the cleaning not bothering to walk around and do it that way. She stretched her back and looked at to the door where the man who had spoken to her stood.

At the back of the room Sherlock and John were busy with something. In fact, Sherlock was looking through a microscope at something on a petri-dish and John was standing next to him, sometimes assisting him by giving him stuff Sherlock required. They also looked up from their research and watched the man who was standing in the door. Sherlock immediately deduced the man. The man was young, somewhere in his thirties. He had sideburns, brown hair which was standing up, probably because of the wax in it. He were a blue shirt, a tie, a striped brown suit, a trench coat, and sneakers. The suit looked a little crumpled, the shoes looked that they were accustomed to a lot of running and the coat seemed to be a little over the top. But then again, he self was wearing a long coat, a deduction unnecessary, not applicable, delete! He couldn't see the man's eyes. The distance was too far. The deduction hadn't taken more than a few seconds. Sherlock stood up from the desk and walked over to Molly. Whoever that man was, he wanted Molly. He must protect her, especially after all the things Molly had done for him. So Sherlock took a stand right next to Molly. John also walked over to Molly and stood at her left side. There they stood. Right beside Molly as if to protect her from harm.

Molly noticed both men standing beside her. She noticed their behaviour and a warm feeling inside her body spread through her. She never thought that there would be a man who would be chivalrous enough to stand up to the threats, she Molly, had to face. Now there were two man standing next to her. Protecting her if need to be. Probably would kill for her if necessary (although she never would agree that they could kill anyone, she knew that they both were capable to do that).

The man looked her over. With a stoic face, at least he tried to look stoic, the smile almost visible, he said: "You gained weight".

Without a second delay Molly replied: "You're rude. I can do the same. You're still skinny."

Then the man looked to both men standing next to Molly, noticing their demeanour as if he hadn't noticed them earlier. Sherlock was sure that that was a scheme. The man had definitively seen them, even before they walked over to Molly and took their places next to her. He couldn't be fooled by the man's 'friendly' face.

"Tell me, Molly," it sounded a little curious, "my little brilliant girl, when did you got rid of her"?

"You're still rude" Molly exclaimed "but I think you know the answer long before you came here. For me it's some fifteen years ago, but I think for you it is one hour? Hundred years?"

With a bright smile the man agreed: "Yes, I am still rude. And to answer your question, it's a hundred years give or take a few years. So, you'll come with me to cure me of my rudeness and find that brilliant girl again?"

"Only if you can get me back five minutes after we left when we go. And not one second later. I can't afford it to be back a year later. I won't that what happened to Rose.

His demeanour changed from happy and excited into something of sorrow.

"I'm sorry," Molly apologized, "I shouldn't had brought that up."

"It's ok," the Doctor replied, in the meantime fidgeting his earlobe, "you're right about that. After all it was a year later."

Sherlock looked at the man. Though the man's face showed happiness, Sherlock now he was closer, could see his eyes. They were brown, but what more, the eyes seemed sad and old. Sad he could understand. Well, understand. _'caring is not an advantage' _ came to mind_. _The man had lost someone. Probably one dear to him. Rose. Molly knew her. So she must know this man. Old. How can they be old? The man was in his thirties. Old eyes. Had seen war. More war than John had. How could he have seen more war? He was younger than John. But still. The eyes didn't lie. Those eyes had seen death. Many times over. He was a soldier. He had killed.

But after Molly's remark of 'Rose' his eyes were more sadder (was that possible?) than he had ever seen in a human being. How could losing someone could cause such pain. Not even John after his faked death had looked like that. And he was sure that John was devastated by his death. He had seen him a few times at his grave. And though John was a soldier, British and a man, he was certain that the pain he saw was in fact more than he could bare, that he had caused that, but he was unable to help John. To tell him that it was all a lie. That he didn't die. John's devastation would have disappeared and then Moriarty's men would have known and John would have died.

Before Sherlock concluded his thoughts according this man, Molly run over to the man and jumped into his arms, giving him a very big hug. He just caught a glimpse of a very big smile upon her face till he just saw the back of her head. The man's face also produced a very big smile, almost splitting his face in two and he embraced her with a force as if he would never ever let her go again.

"Molly," he sighed "so good to see you." They embraced for at least half a minute. She sighed and let him go. His eyes were back to his formal stance, sad and old though his face showed happiness.

Then he looked up at the men, still standing there. Sherlock noticed the man knew that one false move would have 'killed' ('big word') him for harming Molly. But he also saw that their protectiveness around Molly would have been in vain if Molly would have been the man's opponent. He would have wiped them away. He was capable of that. This man was DANGEROUS! Capital and exclamation mark. How!? The man was skinny. He didn't wear any guns. But then again. Moriarty didn't either. He had henchmen. But this man seemed to be alone. No backup. And why would he need Molly? How did she become acquainted with this man. This 'killer'. He seemed friendly, and he probably would be friendly, but that could change in a heartbeat. A split second more like. He glanced at John and noticed that John also noticed the danger the man displayed.

"Wouldn't you introduce me to your friends." the man said, letting Molly go. But then he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side, as if claiming her.

He looked at John and Sherlock and Sherlock noticed the way the man deduced them. How exciting. Sherlock felt a thrill within him. He wanted to know everything about that man. Cause that was the punch line. He couldn't deduce anything besides that the man was a killer. Where did he come from. How became he acquainted with Molly. Why was Molly beaming? She always acted so shy and sometimes so submissive as if she didn't deserve using the space in which she was standing. And now. She had thrown herself without any delay inside the strangers arms. He knew she was friendly, kind, open, but he had never seen her so out of character. Had told the man two times he was rude. She had never said that to him, though he knew he was often rude to her. She always took his insults, even when he made her cry. She never said anything. And this man, she gave him her reply without hesitation. So self-assured. So not-Molly like. And the man ordered her around and she said no. At least till he could act on her conditions. But what conditions? Being back within 5 minutes after leaving? Why leave in the first place. Not want to be back a year later? Because that had happened to 'said' Rose.

With a big smile and a little awe shining in her eyes, Molly said as if she's introducing a very important person: "guys, meet the Doctor", waving her hand pointing at the man.

'Guys'!, Sherlock thought, 'guys?' Molly had never ever used the word guys. And then the look in her eyes. He knew she had a crush on him but never ever had she looked at him as she did now. As if this man was her solar system. Her reason to live. Probably she didn't see the man's mask. But then again, she didn't see Jim's mask either. Sherlock cringed when he thought back at the moment Molly introduced him and he also failed to notice. He just saw what Moriarty wanted him to see. A gay guy. What a disguise and he fell for it.

"Doctor," pointing now at John, "meet John Watson" and pointing at Sherlock she said: "meet Sherlock Holmes."

"No," the man exclaimed. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That's not possible. SHERLOCK HOLMES AND DOCTOR JOHN WATSON? The Detective and his biographer? No, no, no, no, no, that's not possible. How could they be here?" He almost cried out with excitement, happiness, incredulity and a few other expressions, Sherlock couldn't figure out that quick. The man really beamed and looked very excited. Like a kid in the candy store. He walked over to John and offered his hand. John looked a little confused but shook his hand anyway. Then the man walked over to Sherlock and offered his hand.

Had not Sherlock noticed the danger behind the man's mask, he surely would have made a remark about the man being a lunatic and he would have left the scene. But now, more questions. The man knew them. And by the man's reply not because Molly told him she worked with them. 'Well, working...' The last time they met was according to Molly some fifteen years ago. But what did she mean by an hour of a hundred years. He agreed it was hundred years. But what. Then he said doctor John Watson. Molly hadn't introduced him that way. And why saying biographer. John was writing a blog. Not a biography. And what kind of name was 'Doctor'. It was a title but she didn't give anything else. Just 'Doctor'. Codename? But Molly had no layers. She couldn't disguise herself like Mary had done. Black op's or other secret stuff, not Molly's cup of tea. Though Sherlock started to wonder if he was sure about that last bit. No, black op's was definitively out of the question, but secrets. Then he looked at Molly and he saw. Yes, definitively secrets. Why hadn't he seen that before. There was always something. Always something he missed. Now this. She had secrets. Buried so deep she almost forgot them herself. And that 'Doctor' just being there had brought them all back to her. And probably that secrets were magnificent because she adored the man. But not only that, her attitude had changed from I'm unimportant, I'm nothing to I'm the most brilliant girl on this planet and I'm worth dying for and that in five minutes flat. So, Sherlock took the offered hand.

The man smiled at her: "brilliant! Lucky girl. Protected by two man I honour the most." Then looking at both man, "thanks, gentlemen, for taking care of Molly. Her friends are my friends."

And turning around pacing towards the door he turned around once more and said to Molly, offering his hand to take: "Coming?"

"Oh yeah, just like the old days".

Before Sherlock and John could ask a question, Molly had dropped her white coat, ran over to the Doctor, grabbed his hand and ran off.


	2. Another suitor

Chapter 2 Another suitor

_AN: Not beta-ed. My dear readers. English is not my first language. Please forgive me for any mistakes I made. If you can manage to let that slip, enjoy the story._

The door closed with a bang.

The two man still standing near the exam table looking confused. The giggles and the running footsteps of the man and Molly faded away. Then John came to his senses. "WHAT?" John exclaimed. He looked at Sherlock. "What the heck was that. Who was that man? And why did Molly run off with him? That man is a bloody killer and she just smiled at him, jumped into his arms and then ran off with this 'psychopath'" the last word spitted out.

Sherlock looked at John. Then he swallowed, meanwhile blinking his eyes as if that would help his brains to start to work again. John, now accustomed to this, waited till his friend recovered from the shock this certainly has caused. He really wished that he was as clever as Sherlock and saw all the answers in front of him, but alas. He had to wait 'patiently'. It took at least a minute before Sherlock responded although in John's opinion it took longer.

"Well, John," Sherlock swallowed, "I can say Molly's secret has come to light."

"Secret?" John exclaimed. "What secret? That Molly fancies psychopaths (remembering Jim but not mention him, that would be too painful) and she loves them? That she agrees with their lifestyle and killing? No, no, no, you have to convince me because I don't believe you. Molly is the most gentle woman I know. Caring. She couldn't live with such a person or have such a person as her friend. It would break her heart." John sighed.

"Not only that John, but didn't you notice her demeanour changed? You know how she always reacted shy, always self-effacing. Now she stood up against the man, telling him twice he was rude. Ordering that if she would go with him that they would be back within 5 minutes, whatever that means. She made him confess that he was rude and he admitted that he had made a mistake with that woman 'Rose' what took a whole year, whatever that means. Then she jumps into his arms, embracing him and looks at him as if he's the most important man in the entire universe. I don't know John. I'm sure you know that I know that she has a crush on me but compared to him, I'm nothing. Didn't you notice? She introduced us as guys. Not men, just guys. She even didn't look at me the way she always looks at me. With admiration. Now it was completely gone. I was just degraded as a guy. (When he got home he really should think about that. Molly's admiration gone? Would he mind? Of course he wouldn't mind. Would he? Confusing. Not now. Busy.) The only thing I noticed that the man is extremely dangerous, a killer. I noticed you noticed that yourself. But she ran off with him. Voluntarily."

"Any idea how they became acquainted?" John tried to become calm but his mind was spinning.

"I believe she must have met him when she was a teenager. She said that it was fifteen years ago. Then according to the man's age he must have been a teenager too. But that doesn't make sense does it. They recognized each other immediately saying that she gained weight and he still was skinny. But he claimed it was a hundred years ago, give or take a few years. (Code?) And then the fact that the man had seen war. I'm impressed John. You saw it immediately. A warrior. But to be honest John, this whole meeting didn't make any sense. I really have no idea."

Despite everything what happened, John smiled because of the compliment. Praise from Sherlock. Very rare. Then he focused again on the disappearance of Molly. "Is there something we can do?"

"What can we do? Mycroft? Ask the footage of the CCTV and see in what direction the pair (pair? They weren't a pair, were they?) took off? Maybe he took her for a lunch or a field trip or to see a dead body. He calls himself the Doctor but I don´t think for a moment he is one. Not like you. And just as I said, she left voluntarily.

The last words just left Sherlock's mouth or the door swept open and another man ran into the room. Also young and good looking.

Sherlock immediately deduced the man. Young. In his thirties. Short brown hair, roguishly stuck-up here and there. He wore a grey-blue RAF greatcoat with brass buttons, also ankle-length. A dark blue shirt, blue-grey trousers, suspenders and caterpillar boots. (Why was he wearing WO-II uniform?) But the thing that really caught Sherlock's eye was the belt holster immediately knowing it wasn't there for show. He saw his eyes and noticed that this man also had seen war just as the former stranger. Not just seen, also participated. Also a warrior. Also dangerous. This man would also kill you in a heartbeat. The man looked concerned.

"Molly Hooper?" the man asked, authority not quite hidden in this question.

When he didn't see Molly but just the two man, his face changed from concerned into flirtatious. A very big smile appeared, showing a lot of white teeth. "Hello, I'm captain Jack Harkness" he said in a flirtatious way, offering his hand first to John in the meantime letting his eyes floating over John's and Sherlock's body and John could definitively tell that the man liked what he saw.

Then Molly ran into the room. "Jack, stop it." Her voice ordered obedience.

"I'm just saying hello" His voice sounded a little pouted, turning around to face Molly, his coat also sweeping around.

"Yeah, I know you do. But to you that's flirting. Now, leave those poor men alone. John has married a lovely woman and Sherlock is not interested at all."

John heard the 'asexual' when he heard one and he never thought that she would bring that up. He instantly figured out that she tried to protect them. John looked at the man and certainly knew that that man was capable of sleeping with everybody he wishes to sleep with. The man definitively was unisexual. His body poured out a lot of pheromones and then his smile. He knew for certain that a) though he wasn't gay b) and he was married, that without a doubt c) that man certainly could lure him in. (WHAT?) Where the heck came that thought from. He wouldn't go sleeping with a stranger, especially male, just because he was good looking. But man, that man was lethally charming! Even Sherlock seemed under his spell.

Then Sherlock blinked, as if to wipe away some dirt on his eye lenses. 'The man was American. She was introduced to him by that Doctor'. But then Sherlock saw a second inexplicable scene. Molly smiled at the man, wrapping her arms around him. That smile was identical to the one she gave the Doctor.

'Why would she do that? But more important, where did she come from? She just ran off with that Doctor'. Then he noticed. (why didn't he see it immediately. He couldn't have been derived by that man now, could he?) Molly's clothes. They were different. She wore different clothes. 'She changed in five minutes? No, that's not possible'. There was something with her hair too. Her ponytail was placed a little lower. 'No, you can't do that within five minutes, can you? Not with the long hair Molly has'. Then he noticed a little scar in her neck. That wasn't there five minutes ago and this scar seemed to be at least a few months old. And then that guy. (Now he was starting to think like Molly, where did that 'guy' came from, definitively a man). 'The man had been concerned. Why? And why was this man important to her, just as that other man. It seemed that Molly wiped him and John out of her system. (he wasn't jealous, was he? No, definitively not. not? Not now, I'm busy).

The flirtatious look had disappeared for most part as Molly introduced him to them.

Though Jack's smile probably still could illuminate half the city street lights it wasn't as dangerous as his first appearance. This smile seemed more genuine from friend to friend.

"I'm honoured to meet Molly's friends" he said, shaking their hands. "Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. The two most amazing persons in the whole galaxy."

Molly slapped his arm and gave him a look Sherlock immediately interpreted as 'hold your mouth, you're telling'.

'What was going on? Now it happened again. John had been introduced as John Watson and Jack said 'doctor John Watson'. And what about 'the whole galaxy'.

Jack stopped and said with a smile: "Molly, I just came here because I heard our friend would pay you a visit and I was afraid that he would take you away from me. You know, I can't let you go. We need you. But then again, when or if you would leave, you would be brilliant."

"She is!" The voice startled the four people in the room. They hadn't noticed that the door had opened once again and that the Doctor had entered the room. The Doctor walked over to Molly and put his arm around her shoulder. "She faced Davros and she said to stick it somewhere. She stopped him."

"What" exclaimed Jack, shock on his face. "Really?" facing Molly, an admiring look upon his face after hearing this news. "Wow. Brilliant." Then he looked over to the Doctor and said: "Doctor, you certainly choose your companions well." First Rose and then Donna and now our Molly. Then a thought came to mind and he raised his eyebrows and looked at the Doctor. "But I thought he died. He must have died. Or couldn't the meta-crisis kill him because he wasn't Dalek but creator of them? And how did he survive? We barely escaped."

The Doctor rubbing his chin looked at Jack. "Yep, he should have and he didn't. I guess you're right in your assumption. But Molly saved the day," giving her a big smile and an admiring look.

Sherlock noticed that though Molly gave a shy smile, she accepted the praise and the admiration. 'Strange. Molly of all people (not that she was such a goldfish, after all he considered her to be his 'friend'?) was admired by two you could say mighty (where did that came from) warriors. And really, did she really said to stick it somewhere? No, she couldn't. That wasn't her. And how did she stop that man Davros. Some leader of a secret organization? Army? He had never heard of him. Creator of Daleks. What were they. Weapons? Viruses? No, no weapons or viruses. But what then? Jack said if the meta-crisis (what was that?) couldn't kill him because he wasn't Dalek (you can't be a weapon or a virus) but creator. So it must be something else. Or someone. Creator of assassins? But then again, you can kill assassins but the trainer as well. Then what? The men had fought him and 'them' or 'it' at least two times and the last time it seemed that the meta-crisis had dealt with him and them/it. But apparently not good enough. But they thought they had defeated him. And now their Molly (he had heard the possessive pronouns) had dealt with that guy (there was that guy again, Molly certainly had infected him) and both men were in awe. Molly certainly had skills she never had shown to him.'

"Molly," the Doctor said, "thanks for joining me. We really had a great time," giving her a big grin. So, I have something for you" in the meantime reaching into his pockets. Out of his pocket came a parcel, wrapped in blue paper (Jack murmured "really?" rolling his eyes). Molly chuckled. Her eyes sparkled. "Jack," she said in a soft tone as speaking to a child, teaching and correcting him, "I know it's your favourite colour too. Don't pretend otherwise." Now the Doctor chuckled. "Yep," popping the 'p', it's our favourite colour. A big grin followed this statement. "Well, as I was saying, Molly, I have something for you" giving her the parcel.

Sherlock observed 'How's that possible? That parcel is bigger than his pockets. It must be a magic trick. Otherwise the others must have said something about the size of the parcel and the man's pockets. And what about the colour. Their favourite. All three their favourite is some dark-blue colour?' Coincidence? Then there was the case of the wrapping paper. It looked like it was made not just of paper but also of fabric. He had never seen that kind of wrapping paper. But then again, probably he might have skipped that. He wasn't in 'giving presents'. So wrapping paper, no, not his area.'

She unwrapped it and out of it came a t-shirt, blue of course. The same blue as the paper. On the t-shirt was a slogan. "Thank you" she said with a sigh. "It's beautiful." She hugged him.

"You've earned it. You know why I give this to you, now do you?" looking at both men still standing near the exam table.

"Yes." She acknowledged, giving the Doctor a nod.

'As if it were the crown jewels' Sherlock sarcastically thought. And then that blue again. And now Molly was hugging him. He knew Molly was a cuddling type, but that guy (grrr, 'guy' again!) she was really enjoying hugging him.'

"Well," the Doctor said, "Jack, I'm leaving. You're coming? After all, after all the trouble of finding me. I guess it was Toshiko, who pinned me down, wasn't it?

"Yes, it was. She saw the rift activity and because of a specific compound she discovered in the key she did some calculation. Unfortunately I was late but you already came back. Lucky me" he said with a grin.

"Right. Well, Molly, coming too? I can drop you of at your place" the Doctor said.

"Thank you but I have some work to do."

"We could buy you lunch. That's the least we can do" Jack stated. "I'll make sure the pepper pots will be removed from the table" he said with a wink.

Molly laughed. "Ok then, you certainly know how to persuade me." Then Molly turned around and faced John and Sherlock as if they hadn't been there the whole time during their conversation. "Bye boys. I'm taking a free afternoon. See you next time."

Jack walked over to the door, opening it for Molly, which she accepted with a nod. She left and both men followed her, their coats sweeping as if they were in a hurry.

John saw them leave. He sighed. At least, Molly was save. As save as she could be. And now she has another handsome man following her. Then a thought came to mind. 'What is it with handsome men wearing long coats. Now I understand why Molly fell for Sherlock. These guys were her first. She couldn't have prevented that. It was meant to be. But then. Now it seemed that she completely forgotten him and Sherlock. No awe in her eyes for his friend anymore.' He looked at Sherlock who had walked over to the exam table where the t-shirt lied which the Doctor had given Molly.

Sherlock spread the shirt on the table. Both men stared at the slogan.

Molly!  
Defender of the earth!

They both looked shocked. Surprised. Confused.

'What?' Sherlock thought. 'That's got to be a joke. But who was he kidding. Both men respected Molly and confirmed her participation in the destruction of 'said' Davros. He really had to sort this out.'

"John, I'm going home." Forgotten was his research as if it hadn't been that important, though he had been working on this experiment for at least two days.

When they left St. Barts John muttered: "What is it with women and secrets."

"Because men never finds them out unless women want them to find them out" Sherlock replied dryly. He knew John referred not only about Molly but also of Mary who had her secrets.

He thought about the fact that Molly had kept her mouth shut for almost two years, telling nobody that he was alive. Knowing Molly that must have been really hard for the woman. Mmm, he probably should revise his opinion concerning women. No, not women, just Molly. A sly smile appeared on his face. That was quite a challenge. If he would use his charm, she would tell him everything. But the fact she never mentioned both men before, although they were very important to her, he could tell, and the fact that she never told John anything. Mmm... The woman could keep her secrets. How could he persuade her to tell? Especially when her love for him was gone (that wasn't bad was it? Not seeing those begging adoring eyes anymore. Was it? Was it? Really?).


	3. Questions

Chapter 3 Questions

_AN: My dear readers, thanks for your kind reviews despite some (grammar) mistakes I may have written down. Also thanks for the suggestions, I will give it some thought. I wish you all much reading fun (and my apologies in advance for the mistakes)._

When both men came home, John immediately went to the kitchen to make some tea. He didn't bother to ask Sherlock if he wanted any. Sherlock had dropped himself on the sofa and had retreated himself into his mind palace. Despite that, John put a mug on the table next to him. He kept hoping. He set himself in his chair near the fireplace and grabbed the newspaper which had been lying on the side table. He didn't had the time this morning to read it. But it stayed on his lap, unopened. He thought about the events that happened that morning at St Barts. Well, events, just two guys, men actually. Man, he was starting to talk like Molly now. They were definitively men. And very attractive. He could understand why Molly adored them. Though he wasn't gay, he had eyes. He had seen. And man, that second fellow definitively was dangerous. Not only as a soldier but also in a sexual way. Did he and Molly had a relationship? Or did she had one with that other guy? Or did she had one with both, or with both at the same time? He took a sip of his tea. Well. That wasn't a nice thought was it. He loved Molly in a friendly way and he really hoped that one day she would find happiness, though he didn't believe that her dream to become Mrs. Holmes would come true, but to think that Molly would have an relationship with a killer. Bit not good. Then he really wished it was Sherlock, though he had told him at Angelo's that it wasn't really his area. Married to his work. Poor Molly. But now she told that 'Jack', that Sherlock wasn't interested in that stuff in the first place. Did she mean that? He knew she put that up to protect them from Jack's sexual 'attack'. If she meant that, than she knew that he wasn't interested in her in the first place. Then why fancy his friend? Thinking about the fact that she and those men should have been together, made him cringe. And now, Sherlock just quitted his experiment. That wasn't Sherlock. He never unfinished an experiment. Now he was lying on the couch, thinking. He probably wasn't thinking about Molly. Well, maybe a little, because she kept those men a secret. He was sure his friend tried to find answers about those two men in their long coats. He sighed. Despite the fact that he had noticed that the men were soldiers, he hadn't deduced anything. He wasn't Sherlock. But now Sherlock had confirmed that he couldn't tell anything, just that the first man had been extremely dangerous. And that the other fellow also was a soldier.

After an hour Sherlock opened his eyes again and lifted himself of the couch. He walked over to his desk and opened his laptop.

"Anything?" John asked.

"I need more information" Sherlock replied and started fanatically typing, not saying anything else.

John recognized his mood and kept himself quiet. He took both mugs and walked over the kitchen to fetch him and Sherlock another cup of tea. Sherlock hadn't drunk his first cup. He placed a new, hot one next to him. This time Sherlock took it without thinking. He leaned over Sherlock's shoulder to see what it was that Sherlock was typing.

"Really, John?"

John stepped away and went over to his seat again. He knew that Sherlock would tell, if he would find anything. At least he hoped. He knew that Sherlock also could keep his secrets.

000000000000000000000000

Sherlock had laid on the couch and thought about both men. He was really annoyed. Why couldn't he find anything. He only observed the facts about their cloths, being young and good looking. But his deduction was more off. Both warriors/soldiers, extremely dangerous and very dangerous and that 'Jack' was American and unisexual. But nothing more. That was the strangest part. They must have been involved in black ops or something (not Molly, maybe she was a witness then?) But if that fact was true, he should have noticed that, but he didn't. Both men didn't give anything away. He hadn't enough information. He needed more information.

He stood up from the couch and walked over to his laptop. Doctor wasn't the appropriate word to search the net. There would be to many hits. He took a sip of his tea. Mmm hot. The name Jack Harkness, captain should do the trick. But the screen stayed empty. So he tried to get access to some government files. (Mycroft wouldn't be pleased, but who cares.) Captain. That means, the man must be registered in the military archives. He got a hit when he entered 'captain Jack Harkness'. Alas, it was classified. Then he tried some other government files and searched for Doctor and Daleks. Also classified. In other government files the name of the captain appeared, but still classified. Mmm. Not only just a soldier then. Then he typed 'Doctor and Molly Hooper' not really thinking there would be a match. His screen said otherwise. File classified. WHAT? What had she done those fifteen years ago? What happened?

When he thought this over, his phone rang.

"Hello, brother, may I congratulate you with your successful experiment. I assume that you're bored now and out of books, and that you're trying to find a case by scanning our government files. I strongly advise you to stop searching whatever you are searching. I suggest you visit your detective inspector Lestrade."

Sherlock was taken aback a little by Mycroft's call. He hadn't suspected to get a reaction so soon. But then again, it was Mycroft. Surely he had protected those files for stranger's eyes. You could say, trying to make them 'Sherlock' proof. And, any unauthorized person searching them, would be traced down immediately.

"Mycroft, what can you tell me about the Doctor." It was a shot in the dark. Though Mycroft was the government, it didn't mean he knew all the contents of all the files, securely stored and locked away in Great Britain's huge database. Mycroft didn't reply immediately. That was a surprise. 'Jackpot'. He definitively heard a sigh before Mycroft began to speak.

"Sherlock, what kind of doctor do you need? I thought John did a good job patching you up every time you've got beaten up.

"You know, the Doctor. The man with an obsession for dark blue." Another shot.

"I strongly advise you to drop the search and stick to the files Lestrade gives you. You know, for snooping around in our files, you could be arrested and there is nothing I can do to prevent that."

With one click, the conversation was over.

Sherlock thought about the conversation. He knew now for sure that both the Doctor and the captain had been working for the government. But the files were sealed and there was no way to get access. This was so high that this was above Mycroft payroll. That, he never would have guessed. He knew there were a few things where Mycroft was the minion, but this? And Molly was acquainted with both men? Then Molly had to talk. He closed his laptop and walked over to his chair and steepled his hands under his chin.

"Was that Mycroft on the phone?" John looked at him.

"Obviously." Sherlock eyed John, but not really seeing him.

"What did he want?"

"To keep me away from his files, apparently."

"What, you were sniffing around in government files?" John sounded shocked.

"This is big John. Every file was classified. And to speak with your words, if I would sniff around any further, I would be arrested and it would be beyond Mycroft's help. So, we must find another way to retrieve this information."

John thought about this information. Our Molly had dealt with government business, all hush hush. Strange. He never thought Molly would be into something like that. "You know, you could ask Molly."

Sherlock scowled. "John, you noticed Molly's behaviour today. Do you think she would like to talk about them?"

"Sure she will."

Before Sherlock could ask how and why, the doorbell rang.

They heard voices and giggles from Mrs. Hudson. Then they heard footsteps on the stairs and the door opened. Sherlock first had thought it was Lestrade, but then again, he never made Mrs. Hudson laugh. Second a client, but then Mrs. Hudson would have introduced him. Third, a friend of John, but these were male footsteps. And John never had any male friend invited into their home. Maybe he had invited them, but they never visited him at home. The man who entered their home was the last man he would have guessed who would give them a visit.

"Hello, I was told to give you a visit. I believe you would like to know who I am?"

Sherlock looked at him as if he was expecting him anyhow but John looked thunderstrucked.

"How did you know," John stammered.

"Some Mycroft called me. Told me to give you a visit and make things clear." A big smile appeared on his face. "I'm happy to be of any service. ANY SERVICE." Then he gave them a wink and John knew exactly what kind of service he had in mind. Blimey, lethally charming.

"Captain, nice of you to drop by." Sherlock said in a voice as if he wasn't interested at all.

Before they knew it, the captain had took off his coat, dropped it on the sofa and walked over the kitchen and made tea for the three of them, Sherlock's eyes following him with every move. Then he came back with three mugs and gave them their tea. Then he settled down on the couch and said: "Well, we were introduced this morning but I will introduce myself again. I am captain Jack Harkness. I work for a secret organization. Of course I'm not allowed to say anything about that. You both can understand that. I have met Molly a few years ago. She was introduced to me by the Doctor. And yes, he does secret stuff to. We have worked together occasionally. A couple of years ago he was on a mission, then he met Molly and Molly helped him. Since then they are friends. When he is in town, he visits her. I'm sorry I am not allowed to tell you more.

"It is very friendly to come over all the way to give us this information, Mr. Harkness, Sherlock said in a dry tone, "but this was something we already figured out ourselves. I want to know more about you. Where do you come from. How did you became a soldier. Where were you stationed. And why England. You have an American accent."

"Like I told you, I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more. He took another sip of his tea. Mmm. My cup is empty. He looked at both cups from Sherlock and John. "More tea?" he asked.

"No thank you," Sherlock replied, squeezing his eyes. "You've drugged the tea," he stated, suddenly realising what had happened. How. He hadn't had taken his eyes of him when he made it.

Jack laughed. "I'm sorry. But when it comes to information that is not allowed to go out, we drug the person with retcon. It's a pill we developed. The person who takes it, forgets the last events that happened to him and everybody is happy. It has no side effect besides being sleepy.

"Retcon, retroactive continuity, alteration of previously established facts. Deletes our encounter. Clever."

"Yes, isn't it. Oh, and your tea had more. I was told you were accustomed to drugs. You will be more sleepier than John. Gentlemen, it was nice talking to you both. I have to go. Sweet dreams."

He stood up and put his coat on. He already saw John despite fighting his sleep, falling into dreamland. He noticed Sherlock looked more awake but his eyelids became heavy, heavier and...

Jack took up his cup and walked over to the kitchen. There he washed the cup and put in the cupboard. He walked back into the room, watched both men and sighed. Pity. Then he walked out to visit Mrs. Hudson, leaving two sleeping men behind.


	4. More questions

Chapter 4 More questions

_AN After some suggestions from my readers I got the idea to change Mike Stamford into a Slitheen. Thinking this over I decided against it. John doesn't have many friends and losing Sherlock almost killed him. And now losing another. I had not the heart to do it. After all, real friends are very scarce. But. If you like this idea, feel free to use it. _

With a yawn John stretched his arms wide and slowly opened his eyes. It was dark. Slowly he came to his senses. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he saw the silhouette of Sherlock sitting opposite him in his chair. Slowly his mind started working again and he thought of what might have happened. Why was he not in his bed. Why were they sleeping in their chairs. What happened? Were they extremely tired? When did they fall asleep in the first place? It must have been light otherwise they would have switched on a lamp. He stood up and switched on the lamp and walked over to Sherlock to see if there were any injuries. When he didn't find anything but Sherlock still sleeping, he guessed that they must have been drugged. How. They were in the house. The last memory he had that they were in St. Barts this morning, working on Sherlock's experiment. If they went home after it, when did they leave? He couldn't remember that bit. Or were they drugged in St. Barts and brought over to their house. But who would do such a thing. And then again, Mycroft then must have noticed something, so that couldn't be it. He tried to wake him up, but Sherlock didn't respond. Well, when he thought this over, they must have given Sherlock more, considering his experience with drugs in the past. They didn't want to kill them, so he guessed Sherlock would wake up in a few hours. He felt a little nauseous. Mmm. He looked at his watch. it was almost eleven o'clock. He saw the mugs on the table. It must have been afternoon then when they passed out. Well, that explains his nauseous. He must eat. Hopefully something eatable was in the fridge. Most shops were closed now.

He walked over to the fridge and opened it. The first thing what caught his eye was a translucent plastic box which contained two hands. A big one and a small one. Male and female if he guessed right. Did they had anything to do with Sherlock research in St. Barts? Yeah, St. Barts. Their sleepiness had something to do with St. Barts. Well, he didn't have the answers, so he guessed that Sherlock would come up with them. He saw some eggs, cheese, and a leftover from a Chinese takeaway from yesterday. He could make a meal from that.

Ten minutes later, he walked over to his chair and ate this creative meal. It wasn't bad at all and there was enough left for Sherlock if he wanted some. But he had to go shopping again tomorrow. Another night like this and they would starve cause lack of food. And then the milk. They were running out of milk. Again. Tea without milk, well, that was not his cup of tea. He sighed. He saw his newspaper on his side table and he might as well read it. He hadn't done that yet.

A few hours later Sherlock began to yawn. He opened his eyes and saw John looking at him. His mind started spinning. The questions John had asked himself flew with the speed of light through Sherlock's mind. But he had more. He knew that he hadn't finished his experiment, otherwise his conclusion would have been stored in his mind palace and it wasn't. And the fact that he had slept for more than 8 hours in a chair. That wasn't him. It was light when they were at St. Barts. But now there were teacups on the table. John just ate a meal. Why hadn't Mrs. Hudson paid them a visit. She usually brought them tea around six. Or sometimes she walked in around eight. And now it had been half past one.

As if he hadn't been passed out for the last eight hours, Sherlock stood up with the speed of light and ran of the stairs to Mrs. Hudson's apartment. He picked her lock and opened her door. John, curious why Sherlock ran away so sudden, had followed him downstairs and saw him unlocking her door.

"Sherlock, you can't just walk in so bluntly. Suppose she sleeps naked."

"You're a doctor. You have seen a lot of naked bodies. You couldn't be embarrassed by it" Sherlock stated that fact. Then he walked in, in search for Mrs. Hudson. As he watched every room, he found her in her bedroom, lying on her bed, fully clothed, in a deep sleep.

John knew Sherlock never showed any feelings but he never expected this. He heard a sigh of relief coming from Sherlock's mouth. He wouldn't have guessed that he cared so much for his landlady/housekeeper. Then he became embarrassed by the fact that he hadn't considered the fact that maybe Mrs. Hudson was also attacked by their mysterious drug supplier(s). He could have checked on her earlier and he should have. He walked over to her and examined her. Fortunately there was nothing wrong with her, except she slept deeply. Well, he guessed that because she was elderly and not used to 'drugs' her body responded to it by more sleep. He would check on her in the morning to make sure.

They left her and walked up to their room again. John walked over to the kitchen and made Sherlock a creative meal. When he put that before him, Sherlock frowned.

"You must eat."

"No, I'm not hungry."

"I don't care if you're hungry or not, but you will eat this. The last time I ate was this morning and when I woke up I was nauseous cause lack of food. You ate two days ago and with this day gone by it is three. I insist." John gave him a severe look. And then I want answers.

Sherlock reluctantly ate his dinner and saw John looking at him. Despite the fact that he didn't want any food, he was glad he had some in front of him. John wanted answers and he couldn't give them to him. He frowned. He slowly ate his meal. This way he tried to buy himself some time but it was inevitable. He had to confess he didn't know.

"John, I can't give you any answers. I don't know who drugged us and I don't know why. I can tell you when and where. During teatime in our own house. They administered it in the tea in our flat. Otherwise, why drug Mrs. Hudson. She must have opened the door for him/her/them. Her memory had to be wiped as well just like ours. We left St. Barts this morning but I didn't finish my experiment."

John wanted to ask how he knew this, but then he thought it over. Of course. Sherlock would know the results. If he hadn't any, than it wasn't ready.

"But why would we leave. You worked for two days on that experiment. Leaving it behind certainly will influence the results."

Sherlock took his phone. There were no messages from Lestrade. The only thing he saw was a call from his brother. Well.

"I think John that something happened at St. Barts. We left in the middle of our experiment and we went home. That something was big, cause our memories have been compromised. The only thing on my phone is a call from my brother. You're aware that Mycroft is watching our house. The fact that we are inside and no lights were on didn't bother him to order his minions to check on us. Conclusion. He knows. If I'm correct, he ordered it."

"He ordered it? Bloody hell. You drugging me is to some point. I'm still mad that you decide to use me as a guinea pig sometimes. But him? The bastard."

After a few seconds he said: "Can you retrieve it? It must be somewhere in your mind palace. They can't just delete information out of our brains, can they?"

Sherlock immediately entered his mind palace but after a while he opened his eyes and looked at John.

John knew the answer. The memory was gone. "First thing tomorrow we go to St Barts. We ask Molly if something happened there. Maybe she knows.

Sherlock walked over to his laptop. He opened it and hoped he would find a clue that would give him answers. And there it was. Right in front of him. His internet history had been deleted. The person/persons who had wiped their memory thought about the internet history. How? His laptop was password protected. Sure his search for some government document had triggered Mycroft and 'them' and knew that they had to delete the evidence, but... Sherlock had also used John's during his search. No idea why he switched during his search. Maybe John had protested. Again. But John's history wasn't compromised. They hadn't thought of that. A big grin appeared on his face. Oh, brother, this is fun for there it was;

Jack Harkness, captain.

Though there wasn't a hit on the net, so it had been in the files. Definitively high class stuff. After all they were drugged to hide that information. Did they had an encounter with the man? If so, where? And why would he search the net. What was special about this captain. Or was there a case in which the man was mentioned. No, that wasn't the case. Who was he. They must have met him at St. Barts because he left his experiment. He would never do that. The man must have triggered something. Sherlock's eyes started to sparkle. He steepled his fingers under his chin and grinned. The fact that his experiment had failed didn't bother him at all. He had a new 'case'. To find out who captain Jack Harkness was and why they had been drugged to hide this meeting.

Molly! Molly definitively had to know the man. After all. His experiment was in the lab where Molly was working. She also must have met him.

He took his phone and called her.

As soon as the phone started ringing, she picked it up. A sleepy voice answered. "Molly."

"Molly," his voice sounded smooth. "I'm so sorry to call you at this time, but I wanted to know if you're ok?"

"Sherlock?" Her voice sounded startled.

"Yes, it's me. Are you ok Molly?"

"Yes, I'm ok. Why do you ask?"

"Did you sleep this afternoon? Or did you sleep this evening?"

"No, why should I."

Sherlock heard her reply. Her voice started to become irritated. Irritated? Molly never sounded irritated. Why would she be irritated. Because he called her? He asked if she was fine. According to John, that was good behaviour. He had to think this over.

"Ok, Molly. It's good to hear your fine. I'm sorry I woke you up. Sleep well."

"Well?"

Sherlock looked up and saw John sitting in his chair, watching him. He guessed because they had slept during the day that John was awake, just as he was.

"Why would she be irritated, John? I asked if she was ok."

John sighed. Didn't it occur to you that it is in the middle of the night? People usually sleep in the middle of the night. If you're woken up by a phone call just to be asked if you're ok, you'll get cranky too."

"She didn't sleep this afternoon or evening. They haven't given her drugs."

"You're sure it has something to do with St. Barts."

"Yes John. My internet history has been deleted probably because I poked around in Mycroft's files. But yours was intact. But yours I only used for searching the net. And yours said captain Jack Harkness. Conclusion. Something happened at St. Barts. I left my experiment and went home. Or at least we were home before tea. I hadn't had any phone calls from Lestrade, but one call from my brother. We have been drugged. Molly on the other hand hasn't been drugged. And she was there this morning. She knows what happened there. Within a few hours we go over to her and ask her about the captain."

He walked up to the window and took his violin and started playing. A soft smile on his face.


	5. Facing Molly

Chapter 5 Facing Molly

Despite the fact that John had slept almost the entire afternoon and evening he fell asleep while Sherlock played the violin. With a startle he woke up when Sherlock yelled: "Come on John, we're on our way to Molly." Sherlock already was wearing his coat and put on his gloves. "Really John, still sleepy after all the hours you slept yesterday?" he said with a smile. John saw the excitement in his eyes. He really hoped that Molly would have some answers. Who else would give them to them. Mycroft certainly wouldn't.

At St. Barts Sherlock immediately walked over to the morgue, knowing that it was the first thing Molly did starting her shift. After all, she needed to know if during the night new corpses were brought in.

With a friendly smile he walked in and said: "Good morning Molly. Have you done something with your hair. It looks good. You must keep it this way."

Molly looked up from her list. She saw Sherlock and John standing next to her. And Sherlock was very friendly. She immediately knew he wanted something from her.

"What do you want" she said with a sigh. No good morning Sherlock or good morning John. Nothing. It sounded that it was inevitable to respond but her response wasn't heartily given.

"Molly, are you alright?" Sherlock asked. It sounded concerned. His face showed he cared.

Molly looked in his eyes. Mostly she was too shy to look to long but now it seemed she was searching for something.

Sherlock became intrigued. This wasn't the Molly he knew. Something happened yesterday and Molly had changed overnight. She definitively was involved in whatever it was. Mmm. It seemed that his charm wouldn't work on her. How could he persuade her to tell him everything he wanted to know.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking. If you would excuse me, I have a lot of work to do today. Good day gentlemen."

Before Sherlock knew what happened, Molly wandered off. Sherlock followed her with his eyes.

"What was that?" John asked, confusion written on his face. "Why is Molly acting this way? Were you sincere in your compliment about the hair or did she notice that it was a fake one. And were you sincere in her being ok?" He looked at Sherlock and noticed that he was curious.

"John, I may have exaggerated a little bit about her hair but the fact I wanted to know if she was ok, was sincere." His words barely left his mouth and Sherlock squeezed his eyes. Mmm, Sherlock thought, since when do I care about how other people feel. Or is it just Molly? Strange, I don't care. Caring is not an advantage. So why would I want to know if she was ok? Feelings. He couldn't work with that. John would know.

"John, why do I want to know if she's ok?" he asked confused.

John looked at him and gave him a smile. "Because she's your friend" he replied softly.

"I don't have friends, John, just you." It almost sounded as a snarl as if confessing this was a mortal sin.

"Does that mean that I'm the only person in your life you consider to be your friend and that you only care for me? Let me tell you something, you're wrong. I know you care for me. After all, you gave your life to save me. But not only for me, but also for Mrs. Hudson and Greg Lestrade. You asked Molly, the only person you trust besides Mycroft to help you and she did. What were you thinking? That you don't have friends, just one? Sherlock, the fact that you shield your heart to let people in, doesn't mean that they aren't already there. You only didn't notice. This night when you checked to see if Mrs. Hudson was ok, you sighed with relief to see she just was sleeping. If you really didn't care, you wouldn't have gone downstairs in the first place. Then you called Molly. I know just to check if she had slept during the day. But my guess would be that if she hadn't responded you would have gone to her place to check on her. Did you really think that Greg would call you, or that Molly would give you body parts of that Mrs. Hudson would give you tea if they didn't care about you? They even wouldn't come over for Christmas if that was the case."

When Sherlock wanted to react John raised his hand and said: "No. I can flatter myself for telling that people like me but if they really would despise you, they really wouldn't come on any party we're giving. Simple as that. Conclusion. They like you too. Mrs. Hudson and Molly were so pleased to see you again after you know... And even Greg hugged you. "

Sherlock then gave a sly smile. "Does this means that you don't care? After all, you hit me when I came back."

John started to laugh. "Yeah," he grinned "you could draw that conclusion. Well, come on, let's find Molly and see if she has anything to say about that captain fellow."

Sherlock's expression changed from happy into curious again. On his way to Molly he thought about John's words. Feelings. He was not familiar with them, but the way John described it made sense. John's conclusion that the people already were in his heart was something he hadn't noticed. But it was true. He did gave his life to protect John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. He also would have given his life to save Molly. Mmm.

When he entered the lab, Molly was busy filling in some papers. Sherlock walked over to his experiment. John noticed that Molly looked at them, but she didn't say anything. John considered that Sherlock must have a plan and he decided to let him play the game.

Sherlock looked at his experiment. He saw that despite the fact that they have left it, he still could continue. He only had to do a few adjustments.

"Any good?"

"I only have to do a few adjustments and we can continue."

It seemed he was busy but from the corner of his eye he saw Molly watching them. By her stance Sherlock was pretty sure she would never tell.

"John," he said in a low voice. "It looks that she's not gonna give us anything. I would suggest you go and have a coffee with her. Ask her why she's so 'grumpy'. And try to find anything about that captain.

"Why me?" John asked quietly.

"Don't you notice the way she looks at us? And I can tell I'm not her favourite anymore." So who's the guy she fancies now."

"Do you really think that she fancies the captain?"

"Please John, go ask her for a coffee."

"Ok, it's too early. I wait an hour and then ask her. See if she's accepting my invitation."

Sherlock and John worked for the next hour on his experiment. From time to time Sherlock watched Molly and he noticed that Molly watched them. The friendly atmosphere that always was there, seemed off today. He gave a nod to John to go away, pretending that he was too busy to notice that John left.

John stretched himself a little and walked over to Molly. "Are you coming with me for a coffee?" he said in a friendly way. He often had invited her for a coffee when they were busy in the lab and most of the times she had accepted his invitation.

Molly pretended she hadn't seen him coming. She looked up from her files and gave him a brief smile. "Ok," she said.

John saw her face and he immediately noticed that she knew that it wasn't just a coffee offering. Sherlock saw her expression too. He decided to go after them after a few minutes. He never thought that Molly would have guessed their intentions. He underestimated her.

As soon as Molly and John were sitting at a table, in front of them a cup of coffee, Molly said: "Well, John, we often drank coffee together but now I know it isn't just a coffee break. I assume Sherlock ordered you to go and have a drink with me to interrogate me. Right? Well then, what do you want to know. "

John looked a little embarrassed. He sighed. He couldn't lie to Molly. "It has something to do with yesterday," he started.

"Of course. And what do you want to know?"

Molly was sitting with her back at the entrance so she didn't see Sherlock enter the cafeteria. John however saw him approaching them. He stealthily quickly shook his head to warn him not to come over.

Sherlock stood still but he could hear their conversation.

John took a sip of his coffee under while thinking how to phrase his question. 'Sherlock couldn't deduce anything about captain Jack.' No than she wouldn't say anything. He had to phrase it differently. He decided to bluff. "Molly, do you have feelings for Jack?"

Her reaction was not what he expected. She started to laugh.

"Oh John," she said after a while. "Nobody can mess with Sherlock's brains, can they." She still giggled a little.

Well, that wasn't an answer. He still knew nothing.

"Well?" he asked. "I notice the way you behave today. You didn't even said a 'good morning'. And it seems that you don't like Sherlock anymore. My guess would be because you love someone else. So I want to know if Jack is your friend?" He hoped that just saying his first name that it would look like he also knew the guy and that she would fall for that trick.

John took another sip of his coffee.

"It isn't that I don't like Sherlock anymore but something changed yesterday. Sherlock doesn't appreciate me. They do. I deserve it and they show it." Molly started to giggle again. "I guess you both don't have a clue who Jack is and what he looks like, do you? Otherwise you wouldn't ask. I knew it was risky to let them wipe your memory coming from St. Barts. I knew there was a 90% chance you would figure it out. Did they forget to delete you internet history?"

"You knew they would wipe our memory? Why?" Who is he? And how did you became acquainted?

Molly gave John a friendly patch on his arm, finished her coffee and stood up. Then she saw Sherlock standing near their table. She gave him a wink and walked away, leaving both men baffled behind.


	6. Watching Molly

Chapter 6 Watching Molly

Sherlock squeezed his eyes. John fetched them a coffee and Sherlock took Molly's seat.

"That didn't go well" John stated. "We only know that she knew that we would be drugged and that it probably wouldn't work, but she's not going to tell."

Sherlock thought about the conversation. She still liked him but she had said that he didn't appreciate her. 'They did and she deserved it'. Who were they and why did she deserved it. What did she do to deserve it.

"That Jack was not alone. There was another person or more persons with him."

"How do you know"

"Because she said 'They appreciate me. I deserve it and they show it'. You're right John, she won't tell us anything. Remember the fact that she kept her mouth shut after my faked death for two years."

"Then how will we get answers?"

"I guess, we won't." After a while he said: "did you notice she has a scar in her neck? It wasn't there yesterday. The scar is at least a few months old."

"That's not possible. You can't get a scar in a day time looking a few months old." John looked confused.

"Mmm, intriguing isn't it?"

John looked at Sherlock. He saw the determination in his face. He wouldn't give up. Although Mycroft and Molly wouldn't tell anything, he knew Sherlock had his ways.

They finished their coffee and Sherlock took his phone. He started texting to his homeless network. He guessed that somebody must have seen something.

They walked back to the lab and it seemed that Molly's mood had changed for the better. Of course, it made sense. The pressure was gone. She had been 'interrogated' and she had been standing up to it. Molly had won this battle.

He looked at her and when she looked at him, he gave her a genuine smile. Her face lightened and she smiled in return. Not the shy smile she always gave him, but a genuine one. But Sherlock noticed the secret faintly shining through it. He walked back to his experiment and hoped that his network would give him some clues.

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A few months had already past and Sherlock hadn't find any answers. He was more often at St. Barts experimenting on something, when Lestrade didn't had a case, watching Molly vigilantly. Molly had changed. She didn't bring him coffee anymore and the genuine smile she had given him after their 'interrogation', she now gave to every man. Why would she do that. If he was her 'friend' then those smiles were only for him. Maybe for John and Greg too because they were her friends as well. But not for every man. They didn't deserve her smile. And then her demeanour. Molly had turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly. Her cocoon of shyness and self-effacing completely gone. A new Molly was born. Full of self-confidence, as if the world was hers. If he was honest, he was intrigued by this new Molly. The goldfish part he always saw in her had been a disguise and he hadn't even noticed it (there was always something). He had ordered his homeless network to spy on Molly to see if she would date, especially a man named Jack (he wouldn't confess that to John). He knew for sure that Jack was responsible for her change. She had said that 'they' appreciated her and that she deserved it. But what was it that she had done. He couldn't figure it out. And then appreciation. She wanted to be appreciated. If he started to appreciate her (how would he do that) would she give in? No. She wouldn't. She could keep her secrets.

John who had noticed Sherlock's focus on Molly was pleased that Sherlock spend so much time at the lab. Most of his experiments took place there, which meant that there were less body parts in the fridge. On the one hand he hoped that Sherlock wouldn't find out soon what happened so the fridge staid 'empty', on the other hand he still was mad that 'they' had drugged them and would like to wipe the floor with them. The evenings were more quieter this way. Mostly Sherlock was sitting in his chair, his hands steepled under his chin, or he was playing the violin. The few experiments on the kitchen table were a laugh. Sometimes Sherlock walked over and checked something but after a while he walked away and forgot the whole thing. It was so not Sherlock! But if he was honest to himself, he had to admit that he became worried about his friend. Sherlock seemed quite fixed on Molly. He really hoped that for his sake, he would find something or skip the whole shebang. If he would go on like this, Sherlock might verbally 'attack' Molly and then maybe their friendship would end.

Then a Saturday evening Sherlock received a text. After reading he immediately stood up and ran to the door, grabbing his coat. Mary visited a friend that weekend so John was with Sherlock. John hadn't a clue where Sherlock was heading but he followed him immediately, thinking that it was a case. Of course it was, but not the case he expected. In the taxi he asked where they were heading and Sherlock confessed that someone from his network had texted him that Molly had left her house in a hurry and was heading to St. Barts.

When they arrived they saw a black van near the entrance of the morgue. On the van was written 'Torchwood'. When they entered they stopped near the window which separated the hallway from the morgue chamber. Inside the chamber they saw Molly and 5 other people, 3 men and 2 women, standing over a body who was lying on the table. They were very occupied with the body that they didn't notice John and Sherlock standing on the other side of the window. Sherlock and John stepped away from the window and stood next to it so that when the other people would look up, they wouldn't see them immediately. The five took a body bag and put the body inside. Two men carried the body out of the morgue, the women followed. The last man said goodbye to Molly and Molly hugged him. He walked out of the morgue, looked up and saw John and Sherlock standing there. Then he smiled at them and gave them a wink. They both looked shocked. Was that man flirting?

And suddenly, as if the clouds which had blocked the sun, were blown away, the memory started to come back. This was the man who walked into the morgue, asked about Molly. This was the man who came that afternoon, drank their tea and had drugged them and Mrs. Hudson. He still wore the same outfit, the grey-blue RAF greatcoat and the belt holster. And yes. This man definitively was flirting. Molly had introduced him and told him to stop it because John was married and Sherlock was not interested at all. This man was a soldier, just as the other man. The Doctor. Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

Sherlock decided to talk to Molly now. They saw Molly mess with the papers as if the body never have been there. They never would have guessed that Molly would do such a thing but they were witnesses. Sherlock thought 'how often had she done this. What was wrong with the body. Experiment? Torchwood. Secret organization? Definitively. Molly was involved. No, that was not it. She cooperated, she didn't work with them.' Then Sherlock remembered what his first conclusion was. 'She knew this captain because she was introduced to him by the Doctor. The files were beyond Mycroft. So very, very, secret.'

Then he walked into the room, John followed him.

"Good evening Molly". His baritone voice sounded loud now in the empty morgue. "Hello Molly" John said.

Molly startled.

"I never had expected that you mess with papers and dead bodies." His demeanour was friendly.

John looked curious.

Then she smiled. "I know, but sometimes you don't have a choice." She looked at them and said: "you both have your memory back haven't you."

"Yes, we do".

"And what did you deduce?" She asked curious.

"That both men are soldiers. They have seen many wars and have killed, They are dangerous. This whole thing is very secret and you are beaming with delight when you see them. Jack you know because the Doctor introduced you to him. And though the Doctor looks young, he is old." (the moment he said it, he knew instantly that this conclusion was right, how impossible it seemed). "Can we meet this Doctor?" He thought if he could figure out what kind of organization, he would have a clue what had been wrong with the body that they took and what Molly had done to... Then he remembered the t-shirt. 'Defender of the earth'. She saved the world. How! Molly. He wanted to know about Molly. He stared at her.

Molly nodded her head. "Your deductions are correct, but give me a good reason why you want to meet the Doctor?" Molly asked in an authorative tone.

"Because that man is extremely dangerous and in this case I would like to know the friends of my friends." He gave her a genuine smile, but his demeanour was cautious.

She knew instantly he referred to Jim, the mastermind criminal. He had warned her to dump him. She hadn't even a clue why she fell for him in the first place. Probably because he acted friendly and the fact that he was smart. But either way, because of Jim, Sherlock had to fake his death and had to stay 'dead' for two years, without his family and friends. Sherlock had never held it against her. Then his remark. 'He said friends.' He really did consider her to be his friend? She had noticed that the last couple of months he watched her with a predatory stare like she was a prey, but it seemed that more had happened.

She looked into his eyes. She knew he was a good actor, especially when he wanted to know something. But she saw concern and kindness. A cheeky grin appeared on her face. Her eyes started to sparkle and it was obviously that she was up to something. Then she confessed: "I haven't signed any contract."

He instantly knew what she meant and his eyes sparkled with delight.

She took out her phone and dialled a number. After a few seconds she said: "Could you drop in for a cup of tea? I have two friends here who really would like to meet you. It seems they are worried, especially after meeting Jack and his friends. Maybe an adventure?" For a few seconds there was silence. Sherlock assumed that the man was giving his answer. Then Molly put her phone back in her pocket and looked at them. "He'll come."

Sherlock's beamed with excitement. Finally. Answers. "When?"

"Anytime now."

"He's in the neighbourhood?"

"No, not really, but he'd just finished 'something', thus he has time." Then she giggled as if she was telling an inside joke.

Sherlock heard her remark. Molly had searched for the word 'something' as if not quite knowing how to describe the thing that the Doctor was doing.

"If he's not in the neighbourhood, how can he be here anytime now."

"Extraordinary isn't it? Wait and see" she said with a grin.

Before Sherlock could ask more, they heard a woosh, woosh. Right in front of their eyes something started to fade in and out and became slowly visible. Both John and Sherlock blinked, not quite believing their eyes. But there it was. A blue police phone box parked in Molly's morgue.

"It's a magic trick. It has to be a magic trick" Sherlock stated and thought back about the parcel the man had pulled out of his coat and had given to Molly. That also had been a magic trick. It never could have fitted in the man's pockets. To be honest, Sherlock and John both looked quite shocked. Molly smiled.

As if this wasn't the worst, the door opened and a man stepped out the box and walked over to Molly, hugging her. Then he walked over to both men, smiling happily. He saw the shocked faces. He knew especially for Sherlock it would be hard. The man was one of logic and he and his box weren't. John on the other hand would believe it would all be a dream and would in due course put in his fantasy section in his brain. He grinned. Were they in for a treat!

"Are you ready for an adventure?" A big grin on his face. Then he turned around and went back into the box, yelling: "Allons-y". Molly immediately dropped her coat and ran after him. At the door she turned around and said to the baffled men: "come on guys, don't let me wait."


	7. Impossible

Chapter 7 Impossible

_Authors Note: Due to family circumstances I won't be able to continue this story for the next couple of weeks (I hope). I'm sorry it took a while to upload this chapter and leave it here. Otherwise I would at least have continued with the chase. I promise in due time I will finish this._

When the man and Molly disappeared into the blue box, Sherlock decided to follow, despite the fact that he believed it was a trick, leaving John behind. And then Sherlock stepped in and disappeared. John watched with open eyes. Three people in such a small box. Impossible. But the box was there and there was no room to hide alongside or behind it. Then, as if John came to his senses, John followed them. After all, he had been a soldier. He surely could manage this. He walked over and stepped inside.

"Close the door will you?" He heard the voice of the man, the Doctor, shouting at him.

He did as he was ordered. He turned around and closed the door. Then he turned around again and walked over to Sherlock. Then he stopped. He couldn't believe his eyes. The inside of the box was huge. In the center was a console where Molly and the Doctor were standing. There was even room under the console. And he noticed that this was not just one room but there were corridors leading to someplace else. This really was huge. He really couldn't believe his eyes. He had to ask Sherlock. He certainly would give an explanation for he couldn't figure it out.

He looked at him and he noticed that though Sherlock had walked in earlier, he must be completely overwhelmed by this place. It seemed that he was paralyzed. His eyes wandered through the room but that was the only movement Sherlock made. He wasn't able to say something. Even after a few minutes Sherlock stood there like a statue. John called him, but he didn't respond. Then he saw that Molly walked over to Sherlock, cupping his face between her hands and then she did something so unMolly like, she pressed a firm kiss on his lips. Now John looked shocked but it seemed that this was the right thing to do. Just because Sherlock didn't expected such a thing, his senses were triggered suddenly by touch and not sight anymore. The kiss took him by surprise. He shook his head and took a step backwards suddenly standing on Johns feet.

"Aah, look out!" John shouted.

It seemed that Molly's touch and John's sound were enough to trigger Sherlock's brain to start working again. He swallowed. Then he looked at Molly and asked curious: "why did you kiss me?"

Molly tilted her head a little and said: "well, you did seemed overwhelmed by this. I wanted to snap you out of it. I chose this option because the other option isn't much fun or you must like to be slapped or spanked. I may not be the woman but I can do that too, you know." Then she stepped closer to him and whispered as if it were a secret: "I prefer kissing" giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Sherlock now was completely focused on Molly. In the background he heard the Doctor saying: "Molly, leave that poor man alone. And you know the rules, no kissing in the TARDIS". Molly gave a wink and stepped away, walking over to the console leaving John and Sherlock at the same spot. John grinned. He never thought he would see his friend so confused but this was priceless. He really liked this Molly. Cheeky. Clever. Unafraid.

Sherlock looked at the Doctor and saw a big grin. He squeezed his eyes.

"How!" His baritone voice sounded clear in the room, demanding an answer.

"If you would put away logic and reality I think you could deduce quite a lot" the Doctor said with a giggle, his eyes waiting expectantly.

Sherlock accepted the challenge. 'Secret organization. Torchwood. Never heard of them. Above Mycroft. Did the government invented this? A box who could appear everywhere? A blue police box from the sixties? Crazy. No. Though scientists were very advanced these days he couldn't believe that somebody could make such a thing. And if they could, then certainly not a police box. The people would notice when it appeared on the street. No, this box belonged to this man. The way he held himself inside and the way he handled the console spoke of years of practice. Years. The man is older then. Older than he looks. He had said to put away logic and reality. If he did this, than he would say that the man was not human. That made a lot of sense. And then, if this man wasn't human than it is obvious that the government doesn't want people to know. That's where Torchwood comes in.'

"You're an alien. This box belongs to you. You can fly with this. And Torchwood deals with alien business."

"WHAT?" John cried out, looking at Sherlock to see if he suddenly went crazy. Then he looked at the man to see if he was insulted or something but the man beamed with delight and exclaimed: "Brilliant, that was absolutely brilliant. But I didn't expected less from the great mister Holmes."

Sherlock looked at the Doctor and saw that his compliment was sincere and smirked.

"Welcome in the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Grab on to something. We're on our way."

"Where were going?" John asked.

"Where do you want to go. The future, the past, another planet."

"WHAT?" John really had trouble believing this stuff. Though Sherlock seemed convinced that this was true, John didn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. Maybe they had been drugged again.

Sherlock turned over to John and placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm John. "Relax John, this is true. You've always believed my deductions were correct. Believe me on this one."

They saw the Doctor fiddling with some levers and switches, yelling with a big grin "allons-y."

Then the TARDIS jolted and rocked. They had to grab something, otherwise they would have tumbled. John shouted at Sherlock. "You said that this box is his and that he could fly it. That he had flown this thing for years. To me it doesn't seem that way. You really want me to believe that stuff?"

Before Sherlock could answer, it stopped.

"We've landed" the Doctor said.

"Where are we and when?" Molly asked.

He looked at his screen which made the grin on the Doctor's face disappear. "We're in London. North of the Tower of London." He reluctantly continued. "Whitechapel" to be exact, a district of East End. And today it's November the 9th, 1888."

Sherlock looked immediately intrigued. He noticed Molly recognized it too, then Molly left the room. John looked confused. When John still hadn't got a clue Sherlock said: "Jack the Ripper, John. Today he will claim his last victim. Maybe we can prevent this from happening."

"No," the Doctor stated, his voice sounding firm. "No, you can't. This must happen. It's a fixed point in time. Everybody knows the name of the last victim, Mary Kelly. Only 25 years old. Slaughtered. But sorry, you have to let this happen. When you interfere, the future will change." A very serious expression lay on his face. "The TARDIS brought you here to prevent the others." He looked at Sherlock and John. Especially John because he knew how much he cared for others.

"This will be very heinous, John." Though Sherlock never showed his emotions, John could tell that he was worried about him.

John swallowed. "I know, I've read the details. Her throat was cut, her face was mutilated just as her thighs, belly and breasts. And her organs were placed near her face and feet. Psychopath! But one with knowledge of the human body. Everything was precisely removed. Educated."

"Yes!" Sherlock replied. "But now you have to let it happen. Maybe we witness this murder. After all we know where it happened and we'll go from there."

When Molly came back all three men looked at her. The Doctor didn't seemed so surprised but John and Sherlock couldn't believe their eyes. Molly had changed her clothes. Now she was wearing an antique simple black dress from the late 19th with the skirt till the ground, luckily it had no train and she had her hair put up, leaving a few curls on both sides. She looked amazing.

"Ready?" The Doctor said. Then he walked to the door and stepped out, Molly following behind.

"Coming?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed. Then he straightened himself. He could handle this. He had been a soldier. Sometimes somebody had to die to save others. Not his life motto but if this had to happen, than he would catch this bastard before he would kill another.

They stepped outside the box. They really had travelled back in time. The streets were small, dirty and crowded. Around them were drunken people, prostitutes, dirty children. On and between the cobblestones was excrement. The smell was terrible. Some people looked sick, malnourished and fatigue. Every day seemed a struggle to survive, no doubt live was hard here, but they didn't give up. And in this place was a killer. Searching his next victim. A prostitute. And there were so many. Out of misery selling their body to earn a few pence to be able to buy bread to feed their children. A needle in a hay stag.

The four walked over to the place where the body would be found. They hide behind a pile of wood which lay there and waited for the kill. There was not much light in the alley and that's what made it a beautiful place to kill. Suddenly they heard voices. A man and a woman, giggling. The couple went into the ally. They looked at each other. This was it. The murder on Mary Kelly. Just 25 years old. They all were tense but they knew they weren't allowed to interfere. Now they saw it happen. The man had lured her into the alley and had pretended to be a client. She had lifted her skirt and then he had placed his hands around her neck and strangled her. Then they heard a soft 'aah' and then the fight for breath. She now lie on the ground and he slit her throat, his knife cutting her face, mutilating her. Then he looked at her legs and cut her thighs and he opened her blouse, cutting her breasts. Then he opened her belly and removed her organs, putting them near her head and feet. And he stabbed her, over and over again. It was gruesome.


End file.
